Inside the Great Walls:
by bigbaby31
Summary: This is a tale of a young man and his pursuit of freedom from his horrible life inside the walls of Ba Sing Se. Remember, what we learn during our travels is often more meaningful than the journey's completion. Please Review :
1. The Dream

Greetings everyone: This is a story I have been working on for quite some time and I am sad to say it is still unfinished. However, due to my impatience with myself I would like to go ahead and publish a little of what I have written. I would also like to add before you begin: this does not feature any Avatar characters; however, it does take place inside the walls of Ba Seng Se with brief allusions to Avatar characters we are all familiar with. If any of you feel that this story should not be published inside the Avatar section, please let me know and I will move it. Thank you and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoy reading all of yours.

**Inside the Great Walls: Dreams, Hope, and Love at First Sight**

"Where did they take her?" A young boy of about sixteen cried out. MIRA…MIRA!" He fell on his knees, crying as he scanned the myriad of tunnels in the dank and horrid cavern for some sign that she was there. "Why? Why did I take my eyes off her? "I LET THEM TAKE HER!" he slammed in his fists onto the damp floor. Suddenly, a terrified voice called out to him, "AJIT!" The young boy let out a rage-filled scream as he jumped up from the floor and began pursuing the voice, his heart racing as he ran down the cold dark tunnels toward the voice of the woman that he loved so deeply. He turned down one of the few illuminated tunnels. The light, which came from the crystal lanterns along the wall, gave the tunnel an eerie green glow. He felt his thoughts leaving him as he ran down this ghostly corridor, he could only think of her. Suddenly, he caught sight of her surrounded by a group of guards dressed in long green robes. "MIRA," he cried seeing his beloved being forcibly led down another tunnel. He became blind with passion and he mindlessly charged at them. Two of the guards abandoned the girl and stood, ready to face the young man. Ajit quickly drew a small dagger he had hidden on his ankle as he rushed toward them, only wrath was visible in his dark brown eyes. The two guards assumed a stance of great unbending strength and, through a series of motions, commanded the Earth to send a mirage of stones hurtling toward the boy (Just a note for the reader, in this world there exist individuals, known as benders, who possess the ability to manipulate one of the four elements—i.e. Earth, Air, Water, and Fire; so if the reader so desired to assign a name to the craft of these two guards, it would be known as Earth-Bending.). He skillfully dodged the projectiles and ran up to one of the guards, cleverly diving toward his feet and severing his Achilles tendon. The guard screamed from the pain and fell to the ground, his leg now completely useless. Ajit did not bother with the other guard, but instead quickly regained his footing and continued running down the corridor. He didn't make it far; the guard he had neglected sent another rock flying toward the boy's head. It struck him, and he fell to the cold floor, unconscious.

When he awoke, he was in a daze. He found everything blurry as he attempted to take in his surrounding. "AJIT!" a concerned voice called to him. He recognized it immediately and quickly looked in front of him. There she was, Mira, seated across the room from—a strange suspended ring dividing them. There was just enough light for Ajit to see the terror that now filled her deep cerulean eyes. "Mirra," he cried with a voice filled with uncontrollable emotion. He desperately attempted to run toward her. A look of horror began to flood his countenance when he realized he was completely encased in stone—his sanity was becoming jeopardized as he began to realize he could not free himself. He felt a small pulling pain in his left leg, then his right shoulder, he felt foot beginning to cramp up.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH…I can't take it, I can't take it, I can't…" His thoughts were replaced by a beautiful singing voice. He concentrated on the calming words of Mirra's lullaby, he felt himself becoming relaxed.

"Thank you Mirra," he said after he had regained his composure. "Are you alright, did the guards harm you?"

"No, I'm fine…Just a little scared." she said in a timid voice. It was just bright enough for Ajit perceive the terror in her deep cerulean eyes.

"I'm sorry Mira. I am so sorry. I promised myself that I would not back down, that I would never let anyone hurt you—and I failed."

Before she could answer, two guards walked into the center of the ring that separated them.

"What the hell do you want?" Ajit said in a bitter tone to the guard who was now facing him. The guard remained silent.

Suddenly, a funny feeling began to overcome Ajit. It was a warm, calming feeling. His eyes became relaxed and slowly went out of focus. He saw a bright light pass in front of him. Then, everything slowly went black


	2. Ba Sing Se

Ajit sprang from his bed; sweat rolling down his forehead, his breathing labored. He reached up and ran his hand through his curly, black hair which was soaked with perspiration. "It was just a dream…just a dream," he said to himself. "Why do they keep happening? This has to be the fourth one this week, and they're always the same: I am always in a dark labyrinth trying to rescue the same girl. I don't even know who the girl is," he said with a hint of frustration in his tone. He soon abandoned his futile attempt at understanding the cause of these nightmares and began to dress himself. "Time for another 'exciting' day at the bazaar," he groaned as he made his way downstairs to his master and caretaker's workshop.

He entered the familiar room, the atmosphere dark and dreary, a single candle burnt on a table next to his master's pottery wheel. It was here that he found her, busily shaping the clay into the common molds found in this part of the city. Ajit, as he approached her, began to examine her closely for he found something to be slightly abnormal in her facial expression. He attempted to ascertain what new feeling was causing this strange appearance. He studied her dress; the usual gray rags, torn and wrinkled from weeks of wear. He watched her movements carefully as she lifted her hand from the mold and wiped a few beads of sweat that had collecting on her brow, resulting in a few stands of knotted gray hair to fall from the cloth which was clumsily wrapped around her head. Finding his endeavor futile, he approached her cautiously, wanting to avoid an argument if at all possible.

"Where are the vases," he asked in as polite a tone as he could manage in her presence (I must take this moment to inform the reader that due to this woman's bitterness and ill-humor, Ajit found it difficult to treat her in any way other than contempt.). She looked up at him with her cold gray eyes, her lips cracked in the vague form of a smile. This startled Ajit who had only seen her smile on very rare occasions. He was now close enough that he could study her more closely, so he took yet another moment to study her stern and rigid facial features and what he found was that her countenance evinced a great excitement, as if she were awaiting the arrival of something extremely beneficial. She raised her hand, her bronzed skin rough and worn from her craft, and pointed to the corner where several beautifully painted pots sat. He, again restraining his true feelings, thanked the woman and very carefully transported her creations out the door and loaded them in an old wooden cart. Once they were all secured in the cart, he untied his master's ostrich-horse, who he affectionately called "slowpoke" due to its old-age, from the post in front of the workshop. Ajit then pulled out a bag from the cart, reached in and pulled out a brush. Laying the bag aside, he ran the comb through the creature's thick brown fur. It reared its strange horse-like head back, throwing its beak into the air in appreciation for the grooming. After he had finished combing the animal's broad torso, he brushed the furry tops of the animal's two ostrich legs. Upon completing his task, he led the animal to the cart and carefully placed the bit and fastened the bridle to its head. Taking his position at the head of the cart, he grabbed the reins and drove the cart toward the market.

As Ajit rode down the cramped and crowded streets of Ba Sing Se, the familiar sights of the lower ring caused feelings of despair and melancholy to flood his soul. He focused on a few of the old dilapidated homes that lined the street. Their thin clay walls which were filled with cracks and the occasional perforation provided only minimal shelter for the many families of refugees. He soon came across one particular dwelling, which was now nothing more than a pile of rubble. He placed blame of the collapse on poor construction due to the ever increasing need for housing. "It must have collapsed recently," Ajit thought to himself as he studied the throng of people crowding around the families who were now digging through the wreckage for what little possessions they had managed to save from the plague of war. He watched a little girl, dressed only in a thin brown cloth (it was too pitiful to be called a dress) with no shoes to guard her feet, digging through the debris and pulling an old doll from under the stones. She embraced it in her thin arms, tears falling down her bony and flushed cheeks. Ajit turned away, even the years he had spent observing similar sights of destitution could not harden him to the pain of a small child. "What has happened to this place," was his only thought.

Suddenly a hoarse voice cried out from the streets. "THEIF! THEIF," the voice desperately cried. Ajit saw a three young boys fleeing from a small fruit stand nearby. An older man dressed in a dirty brown robe emerged in pursuit of them. It appeared that they would escape the wrath of the merchant, but one of the children tripped and fell onto the ground sending a cloud of dust flying into the air. His companions did not stop to help him, they never even looked back. The remaining two children continued running down the street until they were safely out of sight. The old man quickly caught up with the injured child; grabbing him by his arm so he could not escape. He motioned to a group of guards to aid him in his interrogation. Ajit was now growing closer to the man and the small boy, and was soon close enough to make out finer details of their appearances. The older man held the struggling child with great difficulty; his body was small and frail from years of malnutrition and poor living conditions. Ajit studied the man's face carefully. What he found was a set of powerful and handsome features which were now hidden by his age; a broad and strong forehead, a well placed nose with full nostrils, and a strong jaw ornamented with well-proportioned lips. Ajit found himself quite perplexed by the man's rich onyx eyes which, although sunken into his skull from poor health, possessed a look of great pride and vitality. "Probably once a man of great wealth and status that lost everything to the war," Ajit thought to himself. Turning his attention to the small child, he found his countenance more straight forward. The boy was around the age of seven, dressed in dirty brown rags. His face was dirty and evinced a look of great poverty; a small head with sunken features and dark brown eyes that possessed a look of great terror as he awaited his punishment.

His wait was not long. Ajit witnessed a young man, not much older than himself, leave the group of guards to respond to the call. The guard appeared to have a very pleasant and kind face, although much of the finer details of his physiognomy were hidden by his helmet and traditional Earth-Kingdom garbs.

"What can I do for you," the kind guard spoke to the older man, who was now desperately trying to prevent the child from running. The guard bent down and looked at the struggling child and spoke in a very calming voice:

"Don't worry. I am not here to take you away." The child ceased his thrashing and looked up at the guard with his terrified brown eyes. The guard placed gently patted the boy's head and smiled at him, easing the boy's fear so that the old man no longer had to hold him. The guard turned his focus back to the old man.

"This boy and some of his friends ran up to my fruit stand while my back was turned…and ran off with some of my produce," the old man spoke first in a very harsh tone, but seeing the boy's terrified expression return quickly switched to one that was calm and more relaxed. The guard lowered himself on to one knee so that he was at eye-level while he interrogated the child.

"Is this true young man? Can you tell my why you and your friends stole from this man?" He again spoke in such a sweet and caring voice that the child answered without much hesitation.

"We…was hungry…and one of my friends saw that this man wasn't looking…so…so we ran and stol'd some of his fruit." The boy broken and slurred speech clearly indicated to both the guard and the old man that the child was probably one of the many orphans who now found a home in the streets of Ba Sing Se.

Please don't take me away, I'm sorry…I'm really really sorry," the boy cried out, tears now rolling down his cheeks. Both the man and the guard were moved by the little boy's plea. Just when the decision was made to release him, another guard arrived at the scene. He was a large, muscular man with a powerful frame. He towered above the younger guard as he approached. Ajit observed that he, unlike the other guards, had removed his helmet revealing a rough face which bore the look of a rude and corrupt disposition. This new arrival caused a feeling of much disgust in Ajit. During the many hours he had spent at the bizarre, a place the city guards seemed to favor, he had been able to witness the behavior exhibited by many of them. From what he had observed, Ajit quickly developed a hypothesis of the nature that this new arrival was likely to possess. His visage consisted of a large head, coated by a tuft of dirty black hair. His gaze was cold, and evinced the look of a tyrant. His thin mouth was fixed in a permanent scowl, probably meant to show his disapproval of how the young guard was handling this case of theft. What really assisted Ajit in his reading of this brute's character was the very fact that he was now walking the streets without a helmet, a direct violation of the Earth-Kingdom's military dress-code.

"A sign of his self-proclaimed 'leadership' of his unit," Ajit thought to himself. "It would appear that since the arrival of these refugees, the need for a stronger police force has become so important, the Dai Lee is just accepting any volunteers regardless of their character of desire to protect the city." His thoughts were soon interrupted by discourse among the group.

"Were you really about to free this dirty little thief." The corrupt soldier spoke in a harsh voice to the young recruit, that the child quickly renewed his attempts at escape. The young soldier turned his gaze away from the brute and toward the boy. He silently pleaded for the child not to struggle. The boy, either from the young man's plea or from fear of what this terrifying man might do to him, quickly abandoned his efforts to escape. The young soldier once again returned his face toward his "superior."

"No sir…" the young soldier spoke in a tone filled with much hurt. He lowered his eyes to the group as his "commanding officer" placed the boy in stone fetters and led him away. He followed close behind, never once removing his gaze from the cold, desolate ground. Ajit painfully watched as they vanished from sight.

"I can't believe how horrible things have become here. What is the Earth-King thinking making these poor families who have lost everything live like this?" Ajit felt his body begin to fill with rage. This passion, however, was very brief because he had just turned the corner and was only a few feet away from the bazaar. His mood quickly transformed from anger to that of disgust. He looked around at the all-too-familiar surroundings; his senses beset by same sights, sounds, and smells of a city plagued by poverty and corruption.

"I hate this place," he mumbled to himself. "I look into the faces of these people and see nothing, nothing but mere masks. Their lives have become so routine that faces are only painted clay…they are only the walking ceramics of the city's creation. When I look into their eyes all I find are gateways to a deep void. I hate it here. I need to leave. I need to find somewhere where I am free from all of this—But where? I do not know of anywhere else." His thoughts were brought to a close as he reached his destination.


	3. The Bazaar

Upon his arrival at the bazaar, he approached his familiar stand located towards the rear of the market. He again, very cautiously removed the fragile vases from his cart and carefully placed them on the stand for display. With his morning routine accomplished, he proceeded to unharness his ostrich-horse and tied him to a nearby post and took a seat behind the stand—waiting for the arrival of any potential buyers.

It was not long before an older woman; Ajit presumed her to be in her late fifties with a gentle and kind countenance, approached his stand and began viewing the pottery. He watched her soft gray eyes light up as she viewed several of the ornate wares. She appeared to be quite taken with one in particular, a dark blue ceramic decorated with a beautifully detailed golden dragon. Ajit watched her trace the body of the great beast around the vase with her eyes, a look of intrigue entered her visage as she reached the head of the serpent. She reached out with one of her labor-worn hands and felt the texture of its scales. Turning her gaze from the vase, she focused on Ajit who had not once removed his eyes from her.

"How much for this beautiful vase," the kind old lady asked. Ajit could tell from her peasants garb and work-worn hands, that she would be unable to afford the price his master sought for her work. Ajit, not wanting to make the old woman wait in suspense, revealed the price to her. Her tender grey eyes which were once filled with intrigue, immediately took on a look of disappointment. Ajit knew he was correct in his supposition.

"I'm afraid I don't have that much," she said. "Could I possibly talk you in to lowering it," the woman asked determined not to leave without a fight.

Ajit remembered the threat of abandonment he received for his care-taker the last time he allowed a customer to talk the price down. Not wanting to risk another confrontation, he responded in a stern voice, but one that was not without pity.

"I'm sorry, but I cannot. My master has forbidden me to drop the price even a little."

"That's okay, I understand—it was definitely worth a try though," the old woman replied with great courage. "I am not one to allow myself to sink to a state of hopelessness," she added with great conviction as she turned and walked away.

Ajit felt his heart sink as he watched her disappear to the crowd, having to turn away such a kind and passionate individual tore at his soul.

"At least there are a few who still have their hope to comfort them," he said quietly to himself.

Several hours following the visit of the old woman past without any customers. Ajit had climbed onto a nearby wall located just behind his stand and was watching the busy crowds go about their day. He occasionally picked out an individual who happened to strike his interest at the moment, and would follow them with his eyes. He was watching a little boy fighting through the crowds when suddenly; something caught his eye that caused the poor boy to jump in fear. He blinked several times and refocused his gaze toward the source of his shock; all the while trying to convince himself that he was only seeing things. He looked again. What he saw was an intricately decorated carriage, led by a small team of beautifully bred ostrich-horses. Each had a pure white coat which shone brightly in the afternoon sun. Their thick jet-black manes were well combed and rested calmly below jewel encrusted head-dresses. As Ajit studied the sight again, he once again turned his attention to the window of enclosed cabin.

"It can't be," he said to himself. Overcome with an intense curiosity, he jumped from the wall and ran toward the coach—hoping to get a closer look.

Ajit flew through the crowds, carelessly colliding with several people in his rush. He quickly made it to the street; the carriage only a little ways ahead of him. He made another mad dash toward the coach, hoping to get just close enough to peer inside of it. After a tremendous amount of exertion, he finally caught up. Inside the coach, resting against the back of the coach sat a most enchanting and beautiful creature. A dazzling woman, around his age, with deep-blue eyes filled with such serenity that it gave her a sweet, angelic disposition. Her beautiful black hair was resting calmly on her shoulders, a few loose hairs gently accenting her bronze-kissed face. Ajit watched in amazement as her eyes which had appeared to be watching the sky, met with his own as he continued his to run alongside the coach.

"It can't be her," he said to himself. "It can't be the same girl…but it looks just like her."

Just then, he fancied that her eyes met his own and an unexpected look of amazement, instead of terror, appeared on her sweet face. However, before Ajit could be certain that the look he was received was real, the ground suddenly became a pool of mud. He felt his steps becoming increasing burdened until he finally fell forward. He heard a patrol of Earth-Kingdom guards surround him.

"Trying to disturb the generals daughter, are we?" One of the guards said. Ajit pulled his face from the mud and looked up at the guards. He studied their faces for a moment and realized that the one who had spoke was the same guard who had arrested the little boy earlier that morning. Ajit quickly rose from his muddy resting place, turning his attention toward the small patrol.

"No," Ajit said in response to the guard's question—trying to sound as innocent as possible. He quickly tried to fabricate an explanation for his pursuit of the carriage but his fear was frustrating his attempt.

"I…I was just trying to get a closer look at…the…the…OSTRICH-HORSES. You see, I'm a breeder…and…a groomer…and those horses were simply amazing—I just had to get a closer look."

The guards looked at each other and laughed at Ajit's horrible attempt at a lie.

"A horse-groomer huh, well in that case, you wouldn't mind bathing and trimming OUR ostrich-horses then?"

Ajit smiled at the guards; and thought that had he been in a position to smack himself at that moment he would have shown no mercy.


	4. Flight of a Broken Spirit

Ajit returned a few hours later, exhausted from the task of cleaning the corrupt soldiers ostrich-horses. The whole time he had been cleaning the filthy animals, he kept thinking about the girl he had seen, the same questions going through his mind: "How is this possible? There's just no way, I must have been seeing things," he kept telling himself. However, another possibility still haunted his thoughts. "What if it is true? What if that really was the girl, the one who has been haunting my dreams night after night…the one I am so desperately trying to save?" Ajit slowly approached the bazaar. The guards had forcibly led him a considerable distance away from his stand. He looked up at the setting sun which was now retreating behind the walls of the city.

Dusk was approaching when he finally arrived. He realized that the only people remaining were a few shop-owners who were still packing up their unsold merchandise. As Ajit turned down the isle that led to his stand, a sudden sinking feeling hit him in his stomach. "I LEFT THE STAND UNATTENDED," he screamed to himself. He began running toward his booth, but when he arrived he sank to his knees. The vases were gone; not one remained. Ajit put his face into his hands and just sat there for a few moments, lost in thought. "What am I going to do? How do I tell her that I lost all of her vases?" But what could he do? He stood up, harnessed "Slowpoke" to the now empty cart, and began a slow, grief-stricken journey back to his master's workshop.

When he arrived, he purposely took extra time tying the horse back to his post; he was visualizing the inevitable confrontation that would begin the minute he revealed to his master how his negligence led to the theft of her ceramics. He approached the door to his master's workshop, and after a few moments of hesitation, entered.

He found her in her usual spot in front of the pottery wheel. Ajit looked at a few of the new vases she had thrown off to the side. His heart-rate was increasing as he approached her. She turned her attention away from her task and looked up at the frightened young man, that same expression he had witnessed earlier was now more evident than ever.

"So how did we do today?" She said inquiringly. Ajit felt that her cold eyes were reading him, as if she knew something was wrong and was now searching for an answer before he spoke.

"Not so well, I wasn't able to sell anything," Ajit said, hesitation was evident in his voice.

"And why were you unable," a sinister smile appearing on her face. Her eyes were now full of excitement, as if the moment she had longed for had finally arrived.

Ajit's mouth felt as dry as cotton as he prepared to answer her question.

"I…I lost them." His eyes fell to the floor.

"You lost them," she said in an eerie voice.

Her calm was what frightened Ajit the most, it was so unlike her. It bothered to the point that he just broke:

"I'M SORRY, I HAD TO LEAVE THE STAND FOR A MINUTE AND…" She cut him off.

"Ah, you left the stand."

"I'M SORRY, IT'S ALL MY FAULT"

She let out a sinister laugh that sent chills through the terrified young man.

"I suppose you're wondering why I am not beating you right now. Am I right?"

Ajit nodded, words were useless at the moment.

"You see Ajit (He shuttered as she uttered his name); today you are seventeen years old."

He thought back for a moment and counted the days.

"She's right," he thought to himself. "But why is that important, she has never acknowledged my age before?" He looked at her inquiringly.

"Your dead mother…(She lingered on those words, trying to re-open some of Ajit's emotional wounds) was only able to pay for your care up to the age of seventeen. I am no longer bound by law to care for you," she smiled as she uttered those words.

"I have been waiting on this day for a while now and it has finally arrived. So as for the lost vases, I forgive you. Your departure will be payment enough."

"It's past curfew I can't go out," Ajit was becoming enraged by her speech. His voice was now returning to him.

"I figured you would refuse," she said calmly.

Rising for her workbench, she walked toward the window. Throwing open the cloth which provided the only barrier between their home and the elements, she cried out into the night.

"GUARDS…GUARDS…HELP ME! I'M BEING ROBBED!"

Ajit stared at her in disbelief. His heart was beginning to pump at an alarming rate. He became blind with rage: he ran toward the woman who had been oppressing him for as long as he could remember. She let out a loud shriek and began cowering in a corner as Ajit's body came hurtling toward her own.

Just before he made contact with the sinister figure that was once his "caretaker," he felt a strong hand grasp his shoulder. It possessed such great strength that he could not resist the force at which the arm threw him away from the woman. His rage subsided for a moment and he saw the source of that power. A soldier had heard the woman's "cry for help" and ran in to assist her. He heard several other guards shouting outside the window. Ajit was at lost at how he could escape. He bolted past the first guard and managed to make it out the door and into the street. He took refuge in a dark alleyway as he watched two more Earth-Kingdom guards run into the shop. Fearing that they would search for him, he ran a little ways down the road before stopping to catch his breath. Seeing a few open crates resting against one of the old broken-down homes, he decided to sit inside of one and wait until the search died down.

He sat alone in that crate for a while, alone with his thoughts. "What am I going to do now, I have no where to go? God I hate this place…I HATE THIS CITY!" Ajit recalled the painful words spoken by that horrible woman, the words "dead mother" echoing through his mind.

"It's funny," he said to himself. "She said those words as if they were intended to hurt me. But how could they? I don't even remember what my mother looks like." He spoke this hoping to ease the pain he knew those words had caused him.

"I'm alone, aren't I? I am not like these souls-less people that live in this city. I desire something more than the luxuries city-life provides. But how do I satisfy such a passion? What is out there for me?" Ajit, no longer able to restrain his emotions, curled up inside the crate and wept…wept until the stillness of the night brought sleep upon his lost and broken spirit.


	5. A New Goal

His rest was cut short by the sounds of shouting. The sound of approaching foot-steps was audible in the distance. Ajit turned his attention to the midnight sky. The moon now shown brightly, casting its pale light upon the world below. Ajit lifted his head out of the crate, and peered into the dark alleyway. Fearing that he should be discovered he abandoned his hiding place in pursuit of a location which offered better concealment.

He followed the alleyway, doing his best to remain hidden both from the guards and any other unwelcome personage he may encounter. He was now a little unsure of where he was in the city because he was never one to frequent its dark corridors.

As he continued his walk and his fear of discovery lessened, he allowed his thoughts to wander to other matters. He thought back to his "robbery," wondering how long he should remain hidden before resurfacing. "_The guards have probably given up on me already. HA! With all of the crimes here they only bother with the ones that require the least amount of work. There is no way they are still looking for me."_ He walked on a little ways before his wandering mind settled on a new thought—the beautiful face of the woman he had seen earlier that day_. "I still can't believe it was her. I mean, how can I dream of someone whom I have never met, and then see her the very next day? This is beyond what little I have been taught._" Ajit was growing increasingly frustrated with this mystery. Suddenly, a voice cried out not too far behind him.

"HEY YOU, STOP!"

Ajit, distracted by his thoughts, had failed to notice that he had wandered from the protection of the alleyway and into the open street. He turned toward the source of the voice. He saw a pale green light advancing toward him at an alarming rate. As it grew closer, Ajit could make out that the source of the light came from a small lantern, which was carried by a lone Ba Sing Se soldier. A wave of terror hit Ajit as he saw the guard growing closer to his position—he began to flee.

"STOP!" the guard cried, now only a few feet behind Ajit.

Ajit knew he had no where to run; that there was no one who could protect him now. He began to grow weary; the distance between him and the guard growing thinner with each step.

"Maybe I should just stop and let him take me. Why am I running anyway, I have nothing I want to defend?" Strangely, as that thought passed through his mind, the woman's terrified face, the one that had haunted his dreams night after night, entered his mind. This image brought new and unfounded emotions into Ajit's soul, and with it—a renewed sense of strength and determination.

Ajit was always one to let his passions conquer his reason; he suddenly turned toward the guard and began to run towards him—his goal the upper ring.

Ajit's new tactic caught the guard by surprise, causing him to briefly hesitate as the young man ran by him. It took the guard a few moments to recuperate from his shock, but he was soon pursuing Ajit once again. Ajit was now a considerable distance ahead of the guard, and was now nearing the entrance to the middle ring—his new goal still firm in his mind.

His race through the middle ring felt relatively short to our passionate young hero, even though in reality the distance was several miles. Ajit felt his body growing weary and the adrenaline which had provided him with the boost he needed to escape was now leaving him. He slowed his run to a fast walk and looked behind him. What he saw was that the guard's lantern was now a small flicker in the distance. Ajit could tell that he had slowed his advance, but soon other lights began to appear and were soon coming for him at a great speed. Ajit knew he was in trouble.

"_The guard has enlisted help,_" he thought to himself. "What _am I going to do; I don't have enough strength to run anymore_?" As he approached the gate leading to the upper ring, he found that the night watchman was sleeping peacefully with his back against the wall. He found his serendipity to be extremely uplifting, and he quietly passed through the gate with great silence.

Ajit, after he moved further from the gate and deeper into this strange part of city, became increasingly afraid. The shroud of night made his journey incredibly dangerous. He knew that if he were pursued, his lack of knowledge of the surrounding area would eventually lead to his arrest. Ajit's entire body shivered as he felt himself wander from the safety of the path, his bare feet now feeling the coarse texture of the path change into a frigid and moist palette of tiny needles.

"_What is this_," he asked himself crouching to explore this new terrain. He ran his fingers through this strange weave of cool, dew-covered blades. Ajit pulled a few of the tiny needles from the ground. They gave way quite easily and with a tiny snap. He brought them close to his face, rubbing them gently against his skin. They possessed a strange feel with a smooth body and sharp edges which tickled Ajit's face. He brought them to his nose. He found them only slightly aromatic, a smell which he compared to the greens the wicked old woman once had him purchase at the market. "It must be some kind of plant," he thought to himself. "_Wait, I think I know what this is called._" He thought back to a conversation he had overheard between several new recruits of the Ba Sing Se army. They spoke of a strange green plant that thrives in the upper ring that covers large portions of land. "_But I do not recall this plant's name_." Suddenly, a strange word came to mind, one he could have swore he had never heard before. "_Grass_," he thought to himself. "_Is that what this is called? But how could I know that_?"

A slight breeze blew against his face, sending a chill through his body and waking him from his thoughts. At that same moment he heard shouting and the creaking of the upper-ring gate. "_The guards saw me enter the gate_," he screamed in his mind. Ajit rose from his crouch and tried to run but he fell forward from weakness, his body coming to rest in the cradle of the plant he had just discovered. "_What am I going to do; I can't run anymore_." The sun was just barely creeping into the horizon casting a little light on the world below. Ajit desperately searched for something that could conceal his presence. He saw just a little ways in the distance some giant plants that could provide him with the cover he needed. He desperately crawled toward them, his racing heart now drowning out the sounds of the guards hurried footsteps. He just barely hid himself before the group of guards ran past. He gave a tremendous sigh of relief and allowed his body to collapse. He raised his head one last time, making sure that for now he really was safe, before allowing his body to once again succumb to the serenity of a calm slumber.


	6. The Upper Ring

Ajit, after a long, rejuvenating rest, awoke to find the sun beginning to set. It's powerful rays were burning brightly in the horizon, casting a haze of bright orange onto the beautiful homes below. "How long have I been asleep," he asked himself. Ajit surveyed the surrounding area, finding new sights, sounds, and smells everywhere. "_This place is nothing like the lower ring…it's…beautiful_." Ajit was breathless as he observed the rich, green texture of the fields which were covered in grass. "_The guards were not kidding, this is amazing_." Ajit thought back to the lower-ring again: thought back to the dirty streets, to the demoralized people, the broken homes and families. "_Does this place possess what I have been seeking?"_

He crawled from his hiding place and tried to stand but he found his legs were still weary from exhaustion. He stumbled briefly before finally gaining his balance. He made his way back to the path and continued to walk deeper into this paradise.

As he continued walking, he saw a family a short distance from the path. The parents, dressed in comfortable clothes, but which still evinced elegance and refinement, were resting in the shade of a tree rich in fully bloomed cherry blossoms. Ajit had never beheld such a magnificent scene, his senses were euphoric. Ajit watched as a little girl with long black hair came running toward the couple. She dove into her mother's arms, which wrapped around her and held her tight. "_I believe. I have finally found what I have been looking for."_

Ajit, with much reluctance, turned from the picturesque scene as he noticed a few feet ahead, a merry group of extravagantly dressed women, appearing to be enjoying an evening walk, coming toward him. Just before they met on the path, they ceased their laughing and turned their attention toward him. Ajit felt his heart freeze as he continued to approach the cold stares of the women. When he reached them, he hid his face in shame and passed quietly by. He heard their laughter continue off in the distance. His newly found hope shattered as quickly—reality came crashing upon him. He again, thought back to his world in the lower-ring. "I suppose I should have known better," he muttered to himself. "These wealthy people have probably never seen anyone of my 'status' here before." A new feeling began to eat its way into his core, a feeling of dirtiness. He began to feel as if he were tainting the beautiful ground he was now treading. "_I am a sore upon this city soaked in beauty and perfection. There is no happiness here for someone like me._"

After his disgraceful encounter with the proud women, Ajit found that if he avoided the path he could also escape the icy glances of the people that frequented it. This new plan took him through the lawns of several beautiful homes. Towering edifices made from a rich white stone that sparkled brightly in the light of the setting sun. The roofs were made of a beautiful forest green material which added a pleasant contrast to the rest of the structure. As Ajit passed one of these homes, he stopped as a wonderful, mouth-watering smell entranced him. The smell of freshly baked bread and well-seasoned meat engulfed his senses, causing his mouth to water. He soon felt the sharp pain of hunger in his gut but, as he was not unaccustomed to hunger, he continued his walk.

Dusk had now fallen on the city and Ajit found himself once again trapped in unfamiliar territory. It was a chilly spring night with a heavy wind. Ajit saw storm clouds forming overhead covering the humble light of the moon and stars. As a result, he had abandoned traveling through the lawns of the residents because he found that it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to see. "I better find some place to hide, the guards will begin their patrol soon," he thought to himself. There was just enough light for him to see a bridge in the distance. It appeared to lead to a more densely populated part of the upper ring. "Maybe I could find shelter there," he said hurrying to cross the bridge. Just before he arrived however, he saw two guards walking toward him. Much to his relief, he realized they had not spotted him—he quickly turned to flee.

No sooner had he changed direction he found that another light was approaching from the rear. The moonless night gave him a little cover from the soldiers, but they were so close now that his discovery was soon to be inevitable. An idea quickly came to him. He hurried beside the bridge and waded into the river, trying to make as little noise as possible. The water was freezing; he felt his entire body become numb from the frigid liquid. Just as he made his way under the bridge and out of sight, he heard the first two guards pass over the bridge, their footsteps echoing loudly as they crossed. A tremendous gust of wind blew across the city, causing an ear-shattering wail underneath the bridge. As the gust died down, he heard voices engaged in a conversation inaudible to him. "_The two guards must be talking to the other one_," passed through Ajit's mind. He then decided this would be the perfect opportunity for his escape. Again, as quietly as possible, Ajit waded to the other side of the river and climbed up on the shore.

The elements were brutal to our poor hero as he surfaced from the freezing waters; the frigid air and merciless wind making his entire body shiver. As he stood, his clothes stuck to his body making him incredibly uncomfortable. He just stood there, his misery over encumbering his wounded heart. He thought of Mirra again, but instead of the strength her image gave him earlier, now it only brought pain. "_I can't believe I let a stupid dream do this too me. I don't need to be here. I could have just let the guards arrest me, and then in a few weeks I would be free to go. At least I could have found work and a place to stay. But now I am trapped here for another night with no food, no shelter, and now…wet clothes_." Why don't I think things through?" Ajit sat on the cold grass shivering and curled himself into a ball trying to keep warm. "I give up…," he said quietly.


	7. Chapter 7

A few moments later, Ajit heard a faint noise just above him. "What's that," he asked himself, lifting his head and searching for the source of that sound. As he studied the area, he found that he was sitting close to a rather large home. He could not make out the details of the house due to the darkness, but he saw an illuminated doorway that lit up a tiny balcony—and on the balcony was a lone figure resting on the railing. He was not sure if he should retreat or not, but he soon decided that it was such a dark night that it would be impossible for him to be seen. Working up a bit of courage, he quietly moved closer to the phantom.

Once he was closer, he found that this silhouette was that of a young woman who was quietly humming to herself. Her face was hidden by the darkness, but he found a strange familiarity in the sound of her voice as the hum turned into audible words. She sang in such a sweet voice and with such deep emotion that Ajit became entranced by her song. He felt a great calm overcome his troubled soul as he listened to her beautiful song. Strangely, he found that as she continued to sing--the words suddenly arose in his memory and he began to sing along in a rich tenor:

Le long du quai les grands vaisseaux,

Que la houle incline en silence,

Ne prennent pas garde au berceaux

Que la main des femmes balance.

Mais viendra le jour des adieux;

Car il faut que les femmes pleurent;

Et que les homes curieux

Tentent les horizons qui leurrent!

Et ce jour-lá, les grands vaisseaux,

Fuyant le port qui diminue,

Sentent leur masse retenue

Par l'âme des lointains berceaux.

Ajit had become so enthralled by her sweet song that he had failed to realize that he had continued to sing even after she had stopped. But after a few moments of silence, he realized his mistake—and he soon heard a trembling voice speaking out into the darkness.

"Father, is that you?" the trembling woman asked.

Ajit remained silent, not daring to answer her.

"_Should I run? But if I'm caught... _The desire to return to the lower ring suddenly overcame him. _The lower ring is my home, what hope do I possibly have here?_ He finally surrendered to his emotions and ran.

A scream erupted from the balcony as he ran away from the home and toward the path. He quickly glanced over his shoulder; the balcony was still barely illuminated by the doorway, but the woman was gone. Just before he turned around, he felt an all-to-familiar feeling in the ground below him. The solid ground was becoming soft, and he felt his feet sinking into the now mud-like earth. It took more and more energy to free each sinking step, but he soon found that he could no longer free his shaking legs. The ground hardened around him--He was trapped.

Ajit watched as two men carrying pale-green lanterns ran toward him. One of them gave a wheezing kind of laugh as he stuck the lantern into Ajit's face. He looked up into the guards face, but it was hidden by the shadow of his helmet.

"What's scum like you doing here? Don't you know where you belong," said a coarse voice.

Ajit remained silent, trying with all his might to hide his fear, but he knew his eyes were giving him away.

"Not speak'n are ya," said the other voice.

Ajit felt the ground turn to soft again, and the guards lifted him from his earthy prison. He tried to move his legs, but realized that they were still bound by stone fetters. Unable to balance due to his binding, he fell forward and onto one of the guards who quickly pushed him off, swearing as he did so. Ajit feel backward onto the hard ground.

"This filth touched me," said the guard with the wheezing laugh.

Ajit felt a giant boot stomp on his chest, his ribs giving way with a horrible crack, knocking the wind from him. He tried to yell but no sound came out. Then he felt another foot strike his back, a strange sensation flew through his body and then all feeling left him—again, no scream could escape him.

"TRY THAT AGAIN," the guard yelled. He felt something warm and slimy strike the side of his face. He reached up and wiped the disgusting mass from his face—the guard had spat on him.

"Maybe we shou' jus' leave 'im here." The other guard suggested.

"Sounds find to me," the guard responded, his tone still filled with rage. He heard them walk off, muttering curses as they left.

Ajit suddenly felt feeling return to his body; and with it a great wave of pain. He gave a dull groan and rolled onto his stomach turning his head to look off into the distance. Footsteps were now running towards him. Ajit felt another wave of terror fill his body. He tensed up, bracing for whatever pain now awaited him. The hurried footsteps slowed a few feet from him and became very cautious. He heard someone kneel behind him. He saw a lantern placed in front of him and the shadow of a hand approaching his face. He winced, but when the hand touched his face it was cold and shaking. A feeling of warmth and comfort overcame him and he released his tension and let the gentle hand feel his forehead. Ajit longed to know the source of that warming touch, but he found he could not move.

The hand moved away for a moment, and he heard a familiar voice speak:

"It's okay, he's still breathing. Help me get him inside."

Ajit felt a strange mixture of bittersweet emotions stirring within him. He was not sure how to respond to this kindness. He felt a mixture of fear and thankfulness that hurt him so much that tears began to form in his eyes. He wanted desperately to speak, to deny this help that brought such discomfort and pain. Ajit felt himself beginning to slip in and out of consciousness, so he did the only thing he could think off—he spoke in a weak yet grateful voice:

"T-thank…you."

Satisfied that he was heard, he slowly slipped into darkness.


	8. Chapter 8

Ajit felt a great warmth on his face, sending a wave of relaxation through his body. He gave a long yawn and stretched his muscles before opening his eyes. A sudden reflex caused them to shut immediately as the overpowering rays of the sun flooded his pupils--he turned his head away from the powerful light to try and open them again. "_What am I lying on_," he thought feeling that his head was not resting on the hard floor. He soon realized that he was resting his head on a very comfortable object. He opened his dark-brown eyes and studied this thing carefully. From what he could see it was wrapped in a beautiful dark forest green material, but what made it truly wonderful was the feeling of the smooth and gentle material he felt as he moved his face across it. He found that he could only compare its smooth texture to one type of cloth he had encountered before at the bazaar—silk. An old memory began to play in his mind. He remembered when he was a small boy, passing a stand that was selling a beautiful silk kimono which was so stunning that he was forced to stop and admire the creation. He recalled having overheard the seller describing it to a potential buyer, a tall, well-dressed man, as being made from a very fine "silk." The seller then allowed the possible buyer to feel the article whose face immediately became filled with amazement as he did so. The well-dressed man told the seller that he absolutely had to own this kimono and they immediately began discussing the price. Ajit, now filled with a great curiosity, approached the breath-taking piece of artwork. Seeing that the well-dressed man and the seller were not paying him any attention, the urge to feel this "silk" and experience what the well-dressed man experienced became unbearable. He reached out and allowed his hands to caress the material. Its texture was indescribable. He was in awe of this strange new feeling; it was as if he was allowing water to trickle through his fingers. "_But sadly_", he recalled how the well-dressed man saw him touching his coveted garment and he became outraged. He then refused to purchase it, even after the seller gave a heart-felt plea, on the grounds that it was now tainted from the filthy, disgusting hands of a peasant.

Quickly recalling himself from his flashback, he suddenly felt that feeling of dirtiness return. He tried to raise himself from the pillow, an unreasoned fear of punishment causing him to panic, but he found that he was too weak to rise. Ajit felt the taint growing; he felt that his body was contaminating everything he was touching in the tiny room. He desperately began to struggle, trying to escape from this strange place.

He finally made it to his feet causing a sharp pain to erupt in his torso. He winced, but did not scream. He felt his ribs, realizing that someone had bandaged him--this sign of care was unable to quell his anxiety. He ran from behind the shoji screen that had been concealing his bed and unconscious body and into a large room. Seeing an open door that led outside he began to run, but he soon found that his ribs were unable to support his pace—he slowed to a brisk walk.

"Oh! You're awake!" a woman's voice called from behind him sending yet another wave of terror through his bruised body.

"MIRA, MIRA! COME INSIDE, HE'S AWAKE!"

Ajit did not wait for whoever the voice was calling, but continued toward the door. Just as he reached the doorway a figure appeared, causing him to fall backwards. His ribs burned from the intense pain, he felt tears come to his eyes.

"Are you alright?" a sweet and gentle voice asked him.

He froze. "_I recognize that voice,_" Ajit thought to himself. Suddenly, the long forgotten thoughts of that night returned to him. He remembered the sweet voice and the gentle touch of the one who had saved him from the street. He felt his self-loathing increase as he realized that that kind person had brought him into their home. He felt his bandages again, _"and they cared for me."_

He quickly gazed upward toward the face of a woman who now stood before him. He looked directly into her eyes and became instantly mesmerized. He was staring into an endless stream of ocean blue and soon many other colors suddenly became visible; dark greens and even browns had suddenly entered into her eye colored and for a moment Ajit fancied as if he were swimming through a dark, roaring sea. The image brought with it feelings of loneliness and isolation, ones he understood very well. He felt an instant connection with this woman who was gazing down at him with those eyes of desolation. Ajit saw her take a step away from him (_had she sensed it too_, he thought to himself), but her eyes quickly changed from those dark colors to a lighter and calmer shade of cerulean, even the feelings they invoked changed from an expression of loneliness to one of kindness.

Just as her earlier expression made him feel a connection with her, this new expression quickly created a gigantic barrier, causing him to suddenly remember where he was—the feeling of shame once again took him over. _"Am I truly that sick—sick enough to envision that this creature, endowed with such grace and superiority, could ever be an equal to scum like me…"_ He could not even bare to finish his thought, he turned his eyes away from her and began to sob at her feet.

Ajit saw through blurry eyes as the woman walked around him and placed her hands onto his shoulders in an attempt to raise him. He began to quiver as he felt her soft hands touch his bare skin, and he quickly pulled himself away. Ajit waited for her to assist him again but she did not. Instead he heard her gentle voice call to the other woman in the room:

"Priya, would you mind helping our guest to the table?" Ajit then felt her place her mouth close to his ear and whisper to him:

"I know how you feel; I have experienced it as well. Priya is my servant, do you mind if she helps you?"

Ajit nodded gently; stunned by her apparent understanding of what he was feeling. _"She knows how it feels to be dirty, an outcast, but how,_ he thought. He did not even hear the other woman approach him, but when she placed her hands on his shoulders and helped him up he did not resist. He allowed her to walk him over a table made of a rich, dark mahogany. Ajit tensed up as Priya sat him in front of the beautiful table, but he did not try to flee; instead, he moved back a little to avoid touching the gorgeously crafted piece of furniture.

A small flash of light and a crackling sound suddenly drew his attention from the table. He looked up and followed the sound to a large fire place where a tiny pot was suspended over a small fire. He observed the dancing orange and yellow flames as they kissed the bottom of the tin pot. While his attention was away, Mirra took a seat in front of him causing him to immediately bring his attention from the fire to her. Ajit finally understood Mirra's words as he saw her face for the first time. He had been so distraught and overwhelmed with emotion to really take in her full appearance, but now sitting in front of him was a woman possessing a beauty so different, so exotic, that he could find nothing within his finite realm of aesthetics in which to compare her to. But what frightened him the most as he observed her was that this mystical creature was the woman he had seen at the bazaar, the one he heard on the balcony, the woman he had seen in his dreams. He took in every part of her, save the eyes, which he feared to seek again for he felt that he would be unable to withstand the undeserving look of kindness which he had seen earlier. She was dressed in a beautiful light blue kimono. The light color of the garment gently brought out her sweet hands that were resting on the table. They were lying on their sides, curved inward, just barely revealing the vanilla-colored skin of her palms. He traced the visible part of her curved figure with curious eyes. She seemed stouter and more voluptuous than the women he had seen in the Earth-Kingdom, adding to the mysticism of her appearance. She was unlike any woman Ajit had ever seen before, especially when he cautiously moved his gaze to examine her facial features.

The first thing to catch his eye was her countenance, which wore a bright, youthful energy. As he examined her smooth chin-line which he traced up to her gentle, fleshy cheeks he found the source of that energy. The cheeks had a slight rosy color which screamed youthful cheer. He even found that her face brought a wave of happiness through his wounded soul. However, once that wave subsided, it was replaced by a feeling of confusion. He thought back to those eyes. Those cool blue orbs that were looking down on him, making him feel so lost and alone. He shivered at the thought.

Continuing his observation, he found her skin-tone to be of a shade which he could find no comparison, only the word "dark" came to mind—which bothered him so. He longed to frame her image in his mind with pleasing words that could invoke the power of all the senses—like an artist would on their canvas. In spite of his displeasure with himself though, he gazed at her nose which only protruded slightly with the tip only slightly turned up. _"It suits her very well,"_ he thought.

As he was studying her nose, a sparkle quickly caught his attention. He noticed a ray of light had entered the home from somewhere and had caught a gem on her sparkling blue headdress that adorned her long, black hair. It was put up in a gorgeous chignon style. He returned his gaze back to her face, fearing his stare would upset her. He tried avoiding her eyes as best he could but he was unable to as they soon met his own again. They were still calm and light, but as the uneasiness began to creep into him she greeted his stare with a friendly smile. This calmed him greatly.

"How are you feeling?" she asked him in her gentle voice.

"_How should I respond, I still feel very weak. But I don't want her to feel that she has not saved my life. _Very…well, t-thanks to your kindness."

Her face brightened. The little hint of pink in her cheeks grew brighter.

"I am very glad to hear you are feeling better. You have been unconscious for several days since Priya and I brought you in. What were those disgusting guards thinking…"

"I WAS ASLEEP FOR HOW LONG?" Ajit interrupted. He saw them both jump slightly at his outburst.

"_What have I done? What is the matter with me? I have just offended the only two people who have ever shown me any kindness."_

"I mean…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Oh no, it's okay," Mirra smiled. "You have been so quiet that we were just not expecting it. You probably do have a lot of questions, but is it okay if I ask you something first?"

Ajit saw her bright countenance suddenly become solemn. He became a little frightened, but she had been so good to him that he could not find it anywhere in his heart to refuse her. He gave her a gentle nod and awaited her question with much anticipation.

"T-That night, when we found you…the night you were near my balcony…the song? How do you know that song?" Ajit gazed at her face which now seemed much older and much wiser. He was still unable to look into her eyes, but he could feel the emotion building in her.

"_How do I answer her? I am not sure how I knew the song—it just came to me."_

"I-I really don't know." Ajit turned from her face and looked down at the table.

"What? How can you not know? What about the language, how can you speak in that tongue?" He could feel the pain building inside of her. He felt his own heart grow heavy with grief. _"Why don't I remember? Can't you see you are hurting her, Ajit?"_

He heard Mirra finally break down into tears. Ajit could no longer hold back his own emotion and he began to weep as well.

He heard Priya, who had been sitting next to her mistress, began to console her. He watched through cloudy eyes as Priya took her into her arms. She looked up at him and spoke in a soft voice:

"That song…was one her mother use to sing to her before she passed away."

He saw Mirra raise herself and look back at him.

"I'm…so sorry, I didn't mean to upset you…I just…I just cannot understand how you know that song. My mother…came here from the Northern Water Tribe as a refugee. During the first Fire-Nation invasion, the army was so dangerously close to breaking through the city's walls that she and I were forced to flee. My father had been killed during the fighting, so my mother, who was still pregnant with me, along with a few other families fled here to Ba Seng Se. Like Priya said, that song was one she used to sing to me when I was very little. It is sung in an ancient language only known to members of the water-tribe. So when I heard you speak it, I thought that maybe your mother or father was a refugee from the water-tribe too? But I guess that is silly, you don't look like me at all—your features are very much from the earth-kingdom."

"_I-I don't remember anything about my parents_," Ajit thought to himself, but he just could not bring himself to say it to her. He felt that wound reopen inside of him as his thoughts desperately searched for some memory of his parents but nothing came. Mirra was staring so intently at him, waiting for some reply—but he just could not open up, he just kept recalling that look of kindness that frightened him so much. He kept recalling those horrible memories of being treated as a stain upon the earth. Anyone of the nobility always looked at members of his class with such disgust that it engraves a feeling of worthlessness and disgust for themselves onto their souls. So for someone of this class to receive a look of kindness from a member of the upper-class it can only breed mistrust and can wound the pride of the one receiving the look of kindness. And it this very mistrust that is unknowingly preventing Ajit from speaking.

"Priya? Do you think the water is boiling yet?"

Ajit, upon hearing these words, quickly broke free of his thoughts.

"Yes, I believe it is," Priya said as she stood and walked over to the hearth. Ajit watched with great curiosity as Priya knelled before the fire and lifted the pot with a small utensil. She gently sat it down next to her. Ajit observed as she pulled a small brown bag from her pocket, raised it over the steaming pot, and turned it upside down. A dark black powder fell into the liquid which Priya began to stir with a polished stick that was nearby. He was not sure what to make of this strange task and he soon realized that his confusion was evident because he heard Mirra's voice answer his question:

"She is brewing coffee," she said holding back her laughter.

"Caau-fee?" He asked trying to imitate her pronunciation.

"Yes, it's a ground-up bean that is imported from across the ocean."

Ajit felt a disbelieving expression forming on his face. He saw Mirra chuckle.

"Here, try it." Priya spoke to him handing him a cup with a thick-looking black liquid in it. Ajit eyed the drink strangely as he saw creamy dark-brown foam beginning to form at the surface. Suddenly, a powerful smell tickled his nostrils, causing him to jump as he processed the magnitude of this strange, exotic aroma. It was oddly relaxing and he felt a warming feeling deep within him. He lifted his gaze from the drink as Priya handed Mirra a cup which she took gratefully. Ajit gazed back down at the brown foam which now completely covered the thick black part he had seen at first. He shook the cup a little causing the foam to disperse and mix with the dark liquid underneath. The result was a beautiful color of brown that Ajit had only witnessed in one other place. He looked at Mirra who was watching him gleefully from behind her cup--the rich, creamy tone of her skin entrancing Ajit even more now that he had something to relate it too. He quickly turned his attention back to his drink. He lifted the cup up to his lip, the sweet smell growing in intensity, and took a generous sip.

A strange sensation filled his mouth—the taste was overwhelming. Ajit began desperately searching for a place to expel the liquid, but there was none. He knew he could not spit the drink out, for it would to insult the two women who were being so kind to him. So he slowly began swallowing the bitter beverage until he finally managed to force it down. He looked up in humiliation resulting from the scene he knew he had caused. Ajit expected anger and contempt from his hostess, but instead he found her laughing. He was unsure how to interpret the gesture, "_is she toying with me?"_

After her fit of laughter she looked at him and smiled. _"_The first time I tried coffee was when my parents and I went to a dinner party hosted by a newly arrived family. My father described them as a very 'wealthy and powerful clan' and that I was to behave like the perfect daughter--'elegant, graceful,' and above all 'silent,' my father's very words. At the dinner, we were brought a dessert and coffee after we had finished our main course. Me and mother were both looking at this strange black drink with disgust, but my father insisted that we drink it and enjoy it or we would insult the family. I was the first to try it. I took a huge gulp to please my father, but the taste was so horrible that I spit it out. Unfortunately, I accidentally spit right into the face of one of the other guest. I began apologizing over and over again to everyone, but I only got the most horrible glares (Ajit saw her cheeks that were red with laughter beginning to become flushed). I was about to cry but… my mother… was unable to control her laughter, began such a fit of hysterics that soon I caught it too (tears were now forming in eyes). My father was deeply ashamed by this dishonor and on offering his sincerest apologies to everyone, took us back to the carriage and brought us home."

"The look on your face just now…and the way you so desperately wanted to spit out that coffee just kind of reminded me of that night…and my mother's laugh."

Ajit watched with amazement as she told her story because her eyes had begun to resemble that lonely, raging ocean he saw when they were at the doorway. Ajit instantly felt the barrier that separated them crumble, his unconscious skepticism began to dissipate and he looked at her intently with his dark-brown eyes--he now felt as if he could share anything with this broken woman. And the feeling at once became so strong that he found himself beginning to speak automatically;

"I never knew my parents."

Ajit spoke with such strength and emotion in his voice that he surprised himself. Mirra quickly raised her dark blue eyes which were filled with tears, and looked at Ajit's own tear-filled eyes. Her gaze was not at all sympathetic—but one of understanding. Priya, who all this time had been consoling Mirra, looked at the two of them. Her gray eyes and aged facial feature were expressing a look of shock at the scene that was unfolding before her. Her dark gray eyes looked from Mirra to Ajit, and unknown to either of them was that Priya was a woman who had been through much in her lifetime and who possessed a great understanding of people and their interactions with one another, and what was seeing frightened her tremendously. She had been with Mirra ever since her mother had passed away and never before had she been so willing to open up and share her pain with anyone. And now as she watched as Mirra, for the first time in her life, looked at someone genuinely. Before she would fake her expressions to suite whoever was speaking too her, but now she was truly opening herself up. She saw something similar in Ajit as she turned her attention to him. She could not help becoming teary-eyed herself because she was seeing a connection beginning to form between these two hurt individuals. A bond with such an unbreakable hold that she sensed nothing could ever sever one so authentic…and so true.


End file.
